Santana! Santana! Santana!
by IlovesMesomeGlee
Summary: Santana, along with her backup singers Kurt and Mercedes, achieves her dream of being a pop-star! Of course, getting to the top is a whole other story as well. Rated T. I do not own Glee. Brittana, and mostly AU with some OCs. WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Inspired by the wonderful movie "Selena".
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi Guys,**

 **So this is something VERY DIFFERENT for me as I usually normally only ever write about Dave Karofsky. But this idea just came out of nowhere and I decided to go with it.**

 **This is loosely based on and inspired by the movie "Selena". I loooooooooove that movie and that is how this idea was born.**

 **Before we begin a couple things to note – This is completely AU and and since its based off the movie I will be sticking close to the movie. But of course LOTS will be switched around. After this first chapter the rest of the story will be told through flashbacks mostly. I LOVE SANTANA, probably one of my most favorite characters after Dave. Just wanted to say this. Kurt and Santana are best friends here.**

 **WARNING: This story gets very dark and disturbing. If this bothers you please turn back now. You have been warned.**

 **Thank you to those who are reading this. :)**

 **Thank you to Umbrella0326 for helping me. :) I Luv ya lol :)**

 **I think that's all for now.**

 **Enjoy! Please review and let me know if you wanna read more? Thank you :)**

Chapter 1

"Santana! Santana! Santana! Te queremos Santana! Ir niña!" Santana Lopez, a very young beautiful, famous Latina and well-known in Houston, Texas and in the Spanish culture, hears her name being chanted _VERY_ loudly as tens of thousands of fans are waiting for her to hit the stage.

She is currently backstage getting ready for the _BIGGEST_ concert of her whole life. Santana was nervous and would be lying if she said she wasn't. But she was also so jazzed to have an opportunity to be playing at the _VERY_ stadium where all her favorite groups and singers have performed.

The roaring of the crowd's excitement never seemed to overwhelm the young starlet. She was more revved up than ever. She couldn't wait to see all their beautiful faces. The Latina never lied in interviews when she told reporters that she _LOVED_ and appreciated all their support. Because without her fans, she wouldn't be where she is today. Performing in _THE_ world famous _NRG ASTRODOME!_

All thanks to her family, friends and _MOST_ importantly, her fans.

In fact the twenty one year old _LOVED_ her fans so much that she was never ungrateful to them. She never acted like a diva. The Latina grew up appreciating all that was given to her. But she also had a very passionate and fiery spirit. She knew what she wanted in her life and she got it. And her fans loved her even _MORE_ for that!

Ms. Santana Lopez was known as being humble and respectful when it came to people who adored her. And performing in the Astrodome is one of her biggest dreams! _AND SHE IS FINALLY HERE!_

As Santana thinks back to all the blessings in her life, she was sitting in her makeup chair almost ready to go. While in her backstage dressing room alone with her thoughts, a familiar face barges into the room, disrupting her thoughts immediately.

She was instantly worried about the intruder, but her face softened into a warm smile when she realized who it was.

"Santana! You ready yet, girl?! We only got ten and a half minutes till _YOUR_ big show Miss. Pop-Star!"

Kurt Hummel, Santana's best friend since they were very small, is practically jumping off the walls from excitement. Santana should've been annoyed from the interruption and lack of privacy. But she wasn't. When you're a talented pop-star and everyone around you depends on said talent, there was hardly any time to be alone. She had very few moments to herself and learned to jump on them when she could.

But Santana was never truly bothered by this. She understood the mechanics and the dedication and business side to everyone supporting her dream. She's lucky to have such a strong trustworthy support system in a very cutthroat business. At her young age she is very lucky to be in the position she's in when so many others are working hard for the spotlight. She never took that for granted. Her dream could be gone tomorrow and she knew that. So she was respectful as much as she could be.

She turns around in her chair facing the equally talented male singer who was not only her childhood friend but one of her backup singers as well. Santana gives him one of the warmest smiles she has given anyone.

"Yes Kurt, honey," Santana softly said, "I'm almost ready. I just need a few minutes to soak all this in." Santana motions around the room with the brightest smile imprinted on her face. She says this almost in a dream-like state and almost wished someone would just pinch her awake already!

All her dreams and plans since she was a little girl _WERE FINALLY_ happening!

She wanted to soak up as much as she could, scared that one day it could all end.

Santana quickly drowns out those negative thoughts as she watches her friend with a huge smile on his own face. He supported her. He was happy for her.

Kurt Hummel silently takes a seat a few inches across from Santana and softly grabs both her hands placing them in his own.

"Baby," he fondly calls his best friend, stroking his hands on hers in a comforting way. The two best friends understood everything about each other. No matter the flaws they both sometimes had. "We made it, didn't we? _YOU_ made it! Through all our struggles and bullshit, we are _FINALLY_ at the _DOME_!" He whispers and giggles childishly making her giggle the same way. After a full minute of non-stop giggling, they both settle down giving in to the calming bubble that surrounded them.

The pair was thick as thieves. Both understood the excitement going on around them yet they would always be there for each other.

Santana says nothing, letting her friend speak; his words overtake her and calm her nerves and jitteriness. His words always had that effect on her. She was genuinely grateful for his presence.

"But in all seriousness San, did you _EVER_ imagine that you would actually be here?!" Kurt again jumps a little from sheer excitement.

He was always so hyper which is one of the reasons why Santana loved him so much. His spunky attitude complimented her sweet, down to earth demeanor very well.

"When we were kids," Kurt continues knowing he had little time to say what he wanted before Santana Lopez rocks the house down.

It was _NOW_ or _NEVER_ to say what he wanted to say to her all day but couldn't because of her hectic schedule.

Now was his chance.

He wanted to comfort her and let her know even though she already knew that he would be there cheering her on no matter what. "I always knew you were gonna be something someday and now look at you! About to perform your ass off in a sold-out arena! With so many cheering for you! I am so pr-" He says looking down at their conjoined hands, _TRULY_ proud at how hard she had worked to be here. As he speaks from his heart Santana interrupts him, truly touched by his words. A lump formed in her throat overthrowing her emotions all over the place.

"Kurt I just did my makeup... If you keep saying those kind and generous words, you're gonna make me mess it up!" Santana fans herself making sure she doesn't have tear soaked mascara running down. She was joking of course and Kurt couldn't help but roar in laughter.

"I'm serious San!" Kurt happily slaps her knee gently as the two finally stop holding hands to calm themselves down once more.

Santana sighs contentedly.

Kurt clears his throat.

Some words were spoken over the Astrodome's loudspeakers, garbled and unintelligible. But the crowd roars to life, louder than before. That, of course, meant it was clearly _SHOWTIME_. The best friends had run out of time.

"Two minutes, Ms. Lopez."

Kurt and Santana's head flashed towards the sound of the voice, only to see the assistant who poked his head in had already left. They both sensed a flurry of activity around them, as other assistants and personnel were getting ready. Then, staring into the other's eyes, simultaneously winked! _THAT_ sent more giggles out of their youthful mouths as show anxiety built even further!

"Race ya'!" Kurt suddenly announced. He stood up and practically ran out of the room, laughing the whole way.

Santana stood up and took exactly one step towards the exit. "Just you wait, Hum-!"

She barely felt it. She didn't understand what was going on. The moment would be hard for her to remember. But she'd have an eternity to try.

Santana Lopez suddenly felt her head being roughly pushed down, her chin to her chest. Aware of a thick liquid running down her chest, her bulging eyes didn't recognize the blood pouring out of her slit throat.

She couldn't make a sound.

She couldn't protest.

She couldn't breathe.

BUT, she thought as darkness set in, _THE SHOW MUST GO ON._

 **AN: Should I continue? Please Review. Thank you. X3**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: First of all, I am SO sorry for not updating in so LONG! Not gonna lie I was stuck with what to do next. Plus life got in the way again. Anyway as I said in my AN last chapter, most of this story will be told through flashbacks. Starting with this one. "A Long Time Coming" is written in flashbacks like this one so they are VERY familar but also VERY different.**

 **Here we start with Kurt and Santana in elementary school. Mr. Shue is introduced as a teenager here. You will see why later. Dont worry Emma is still in this :)**

 **I hope you like it. :)**

 **I wanted you guys to see their friendship from the beginning before I get to what happened in Chapter 1. I know you guys are waiting for that. But there is this... :)**

 **Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed. :)**

 **Also for those of you who asked, The title is supposed to be read like a crowd cheering for Santana. :)**

 **Please review! Have a Nice Day!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**

 **Chapter 2**

 **TWELVE YEARS AGO:**

She had four choices.

Her little head switched between all of them, her index finger pressed firmly against her tight lips. Wide eyes knew it was important to make sure there were exactly four of them in front of her –

 _One, a brownie – two, a cookie – three – a snick-snick-snick-er..er..do… – sni-snickerd-_ …well, she'd come back to that – _and four, a sugar cookie. One-two-three-four._ She counted them again and knew she had it right. One-two-three-four. She'd figure out how to pronounce number three with her new friend's help.

In fact, she looked for her new friend and ran over to him. He was playing with that goshdarn (she knew not to swear) tea set. Tea sets were no fun. She _MIGHT_ like to play with _REAL_ tea, but it was yucky tasting and she shook her head.

But her friend seemed to be really having a good time. And behind him sat a _MUCH_ bigger boy who was just watching him. She ignored him. He was _HER_ friend – not his.

"Kurtie?" she asked.

He turned around, looked up, and he gave her a wide, toothy smile. Well, as much teeth as a six-year old could.

"Hi Santana!"

"Hi!"

"Hi!"

"Hi!"

"Hi!"

"Hi!"

They giggled and waved to each other. She looked at his teeth and started to count them. But she had a hard time figuring something out. Santana sat down beside him.

"Why are your teeth so weird?"

"What?" Kurt asked, setting his teacup down.

"Why are your teeth so weird?"

He frowned and pressed his finger to his now-closed mouth. "They're not weird."

"Yes they are." Santana insisted. In fact, she even nodded, she was so right. "There's a tooth…" She pointed to the middle of his lips. "There. And over here." She pointed to the right. "And over-"

"They're not weird." Kurt repeated. "I just…lost them."

"You lost them?!" Santana asked, bewildered.

"Yeah. I lost 'em!"

"Where did they go?" She reached for an empty teacup and tossed it to herself. The big boy behind them watched them in fascination.

"They just…fell out. They hurt too."

"They did?" Santana asked. The bigger boy perked up when he heard that.

"Yeah. I didn't want-"

"They're baby teeth, you baby!"

Kurt and Santana turned around to see Lucy Fabray smiling at them. Lucy came to a stop and sat down near Santana, in front of the curious bigger boy.

"I'm not a baby!" Kurt exclaimed. "I'm almost six years old!"

"You're not even six?!" Lucy said with a laugh and a clap of her hands. "Well, you know I'm THIS years old." And Lucy put all ten of her fingers up. Kurt, Santana, and the bigger boy were astonished! _NO ONE_ in their class was that old.

"You're fibbin'." The bigger boy said.

Everybody turned around to look at him. As heads turned, Santana couldn't forget her Kindergarten teacher Mrs. Shuester reminding her to count at every opportunity. She counted two heads turning towards the bigger boy – One, Kurt… and two, Lucy. But suddenly, her eyes widened. No! It was three. Three. Three! _THREE_! She forgot to include her own. She felt like a meanie as she turned her own heavy head towards Cootie Central.

"I am too!" Lucy accused.

But the bigger boy just shook his head as he leaned on a nearby desk. Santana didn't like him. He was always smiling at nothing – or, at least, smiling at the girls and she didn't like it. He was a boy. He was the teacher's son. The teacher's _PET_. She giggled at her own joke.

"You can't be," the bigger boy said. "You _HAVE_ to be six."

Lucy stuck out her tongue and turned around. The bigger boy just smirked.

Suddenly, he turned towards Mrs. Shuester. "Mom, I need to go to the restroom."

"Well," Mrs. Shuester began, "hurry back, Will. I'll need your help with," And then she whispered, "snack time."

Will smirked again, but this time at his mom. But Mrs. Shuester sighed.

"Will," she slowly began, "You're in the McKinley Educational Training System for a reason. You _SAID_ you wanted to be a teacher. So, please take this time away from your classes seriously!"

Will's face quickly grew serious. "I-I will, Mom."

"OK, then."

She turned her back to the class. That gave Will time to smirk and wink at all the girls (who chorused a bunch of 'ewwwww's!'), and left.

Santana sighed in relief and went back to the task at hand. She had a very important question to ask her friend.

"Kurtie?"

"Yeah?" He answered, who had ignored Will Shuester the whole time and was playing with his tea set.

"You know those… _FOUR_ cookies over there?" Santana asked, pointing in the general direction of the snack table.

Kurt looked over for a minute, let his eyes squint a little to see in the distance, and returned back to his fascinating collection of teacup saucers.

"Yeah?"

"Well, what's that third one?"

"The third one?"

"Yeah." And then, she stood up, snatched his hand, and happily strode over to the table in question. Proudly, she was able to show him that it was the third one because the first one was a brownie, the second one was a cookie, and the…forf..forf…fortf… _FOURTH_ one was a sugar cookie. But her eyes narrowed on the third one.

"What's that?" Santana asked. "I know it starts out with a snick-, but I don't know after that."

"Snick-?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah. It's a snick-… _SOMETHING_." And then, she showed her fiery temper a little bit. "I know what it is! But I can't. I can't! I just caaaaaan't!"

"Yeah, you can." Kurt said, looking at the snick-, snick-, snick-…something. "Let's do it together."

"You will?!" Santana squealed. She even jumped up and down a little.

"Yeah! We can do it. We can do anything! We're _FRIENDS_!"

"YEAH!"

"Shhhhhh!" Mrs. Shuester admonished. "If you two can't keep your voices down, you'll have to go back and sit down."

"Yes, Mrs. Shuester." Kurt and Santana said at the same time. They slowly turned back around.

"OK. We've got this." Kurt slowly began, and then looked at her confidently. "We're good."

"Y-y-yyyyyeaahhh…." Santana wasn't too sure. But this snick- food tasted good. So, she wanted to know how to SAY it.

"OK. Let's figure it out." Kurt said.

The kindergartners looked at the offending cookie like it would give them the answer. Kurt even picked one up, peeking around his shoulder to see if Mrs. Shuester was looking. She wasn't. He turned back around and studied it, Santana intensely looking on.

"It's snick…" Kurt began, putting the cookie back. He didn't want to get in trouble after all. "er…."

"Yeah, I know that." Santana said, annoyed.

"Wait a minute, Santana!" Kurt said in frustration. "I'm just sounding out the word, like my mommy tells me to do."

"Your mommy helps you?"

"Yeah. Doesn't yours?"

Santana looked back down at the cookie, just the barest traces of a lower lip sticking out. "No."

Kurt ignored her and kept studying the long-named cookie. "We can do this. Let's try it again."

Santana said nothing.

"It's snick…snick-e-e-errr…" Kurt hesitated and then straightened up his back. "dool!"

"It's what now?" Santana asked, pushing her long pony tail behind her.

"Snickerdool!" Kurt excitedly said.

"Snickerdool?"

"Yeah!"

"Shhhhh! Don't make Mrs. Shuester mad again!"

"I won't!"

"Well don't!"

"I won't!"

"Well don't!"

"I won-"

"Children!" Mrs. Shuester said, standing up at her desk. "Return to your seats."

"Awwwww!" Kurt whined. "We were just tryin-"

"I don't care." She interrupted. "Go sit down."

"But we really were-!"

"Santana! Go. Sit. Down."

The two offending six-year olds stomped back to their chairs and slumped back down, simultaneous hands crossing their wooden desks, and heads flopping down. Mrs. Shuester sat down.

Only a few seconds passed before Kurt turned towards her and whispered, "I TOLD you we've got this. We're good!"

A smile flashed across Kurt's face and Santana, relieved, returned it.

 _WE'VE GOT THIS…WE'RE GOOD,_ Santana thought. She smiled and suddenly got a little sleepy. She felt a nap coming on and…then it happened.

.

The next day, Kurt was bored.

"I'm tired of this." He whined to anyone who would listen. When none of the other girls responded, he tried it again. "I'm tired of this."

Santana and Lucy just kept playing with their tea cups, sitting on the thin, wooden edge of the sandlot's frame. They were talking amongst themselves about things that were very, _VERY_ important – their make-believe families, how good their 'tea' tasted, how they hated their brothers and sisters and boys with cooties, and such. Kurt didn't want to be ignored anymore and he didn't want to play with his tea cups and he didn't like not being heard and he just wanted to be heard.

"I _SAID_ ," Kurt loudly began, "I'm tired of this!"

THAT got the girl's attention. "What do you mean?" Santana asked. " _WE'RE_ having fun!"

"Yeah!" Lucy chimed in.

Kurt put his hands on his hips, still holding the teacup. "This is all you do!" And then, Kurt wildly mimicked the girls actions, exaggeratedly sipping on the cup, puckering out his lips, pinky high in the air… He thought he was getting his point across. Unfortunately, someone else noticed.

 _"Kurt's playing girlyyyy gaaaames!"_

He turned around to see Noah Puckerman laughing and pointing at him. The girls just looked at Noah, a big boy for his age. But he was Cootie Central and normally, they would've lost interest if he hadn't been teasing Kurt.

"It's…" Kurt stammered. "It's fun!"

 _"Kurt's playing girly games! Kurt's playing girly games! Kurt's playing girly games!"_ Noah teased over and over and over.

Kurt put his head down and dropped the teacup in the sand. Noah's loud teasing attracted others and very soon, it became a chorus of ugly bullying and cruel laughter.

 _"Kurt's playing girly games! Kurt's playing girly games! Kurt's playing girly games!"_

Kurt had had enough. Crying, he put his arm over his eyes and ran into the school. Echoes of the awful teasing and laughter filled his ears, haunting and bullying him. Kurt ran into the bathroom and into one of the stalls. He slammed the door and tried and tried to lock it…but it wouldn't lock.

So, he just sat there, head hung low, crying over and over. It was _OK_ to play with teacups when it was just his mommy and Santana and Lucy and his mommy. It was. It really was! But Kurt hated what that meanie Noah Puckerman was doing.

"Kurt?"

He knew that voice – and he knew he shouldn't have.

The door slowly swung open.

"You're…" Kurt wiped his eyes _AGAIN_. "You shouldn't be in here Santana!"

She ignored him. "Noah's a idiot. Just a idiot."

Kurt cried. Santana sighed. She didn't know what to say. Santana looked around the empty bathroom as if the walls would tell her what to say. But she knew her reading skills weren't that great, so it wouldn't matter anyway. Santana returned her attention to Kurt, who was pathetically crying, running his left arm across his face.

Suddenly, something came to her. Last month, she scraped her knee at her abuela's house. It hurt and she cried. The first thing her sweet abuela did was hug her. That stopped her tears. Her eyes widened. Little Santana Lopez knew what to do.

Kurt found himself surrounded by the Cootie Central arms of his best friend. He bolted upright at first and then fell into her arms.

"Shhh, shhh, Kurtie." Santana cooed. "Shh. Shh. Todo estará bien."

Kurt sniffed a few times and looked up, slightly pulling out of the hug. "What?"

"Todo estará bien."

Kurt blinked. "What?"

Santana stood upright, letting her arms fall by her side. "It's something my grandma says when I'm crying."

"Oh," Kurt replied. "What is she saying?"

"I don't know. But it makes me feel better."

Kurt thought for a moment and then just barely smiled back. "Yeah! It does!"

 **AN: WHAT DO YOU THINK? THANK YOU FOR READING :) I'LL NOT TO DISAPPEAR TO LONG AGAIN. :) PLEASE REVIEW!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: HI EVERYBODY! :)**

 **I am so, so, SO sorry for not getting this posted sooner! One of my other stories has been taking up WAY too much of my time. But I LOVE WRITING! LOL! AND I HAVEN'T GAVE UP ON THIS YET! :) I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Hopefully this makes up for my absence. ;)**

 **This chapter is short and sweet. Our cute kindergarten friends Kurt and Santana are growing up and meet a new friend. Dave Karofsky makes a very brief appearence. I cant stay away I love him :) lol**

 **He will be in a few more chapters. But a minor character. You will see ;)**

 **I dont own Lady Gaga. Or her music. I love this song and how they used in Glee :). I wanted to put my own spin on it. :)**

 **Please be kind. Please review. X3**

 **HAVE A NICE DAY!- ILOVESMESOMEGLEEx3**

 **Chapter 3**

"I hate tater tots." Kurt whispered. A cute black girl in front of him in line overheard, but ignored him. An enormous pile of the potato 'delicacy' was placed on her tray. Kurt soured at the sight.

So, he turned about face and marched his way over to the salad bar. McKinley High School was lucky to have several dietary options for kids in their middle school. But McKinley is a relatively large school in a large district and, thanks to Democratic taxes, the public school system benefits.

Of course, Kurt didn't understand that. All he thought about was how he was convinced he was confidently strutting towards the salad bar. But he was aware that all around him, some kids were snickering. He knew it was directed at him, but as his mom once told him – 'bad words are like rain on a duck – they just roll right off'.

Kurt sadly smiled at the recent memory of his mother. Sighing, he dipped his head a little, a futile attempt to get rid of that part of his past. Instead, he opted for the very short line to get his salad.

And the salad bar left much to be desired. Regardless, Kurt was satisfied with his pile of rabbit food, paid for it, and casually strolled to an empty, round table. He delicately placed his food on the table, let his bookbag drop, and plopped into the hard chair. He momentarily looked at the three empty seats near him. He knew he wouldn't be alone for very long. And he was right.

He smelled her before she arrived – tater tots. _EWWWW_ , Kurt thought.

Just as he forked his first mouthful, he heard and peripherally saw her sit down beside him.

"Why waste money on a salad when the cafeteria has these delicious tater tots?"

Pulling the fork out of his mouth, he looked over at her and couldn't help but chuckle a little. She had a huge amount of potato in her mouth and knew he'd be able to 'get a word in edgewise'.

"The tots are gross, Santana."

"O we're ot!"

"Santana," Kurt said with a slight sigh, "chew and swallow."

She ignored him, "Noooo!" She then opened her mouth and allowed Kurt to see the contents of her full mouth. He immediately looked away, but heard her giggles.

"Gross." Kurt muttered.

Santana swallowed. "I knew that would work!"

"Santana, when will you ever grow up? I mean, we're in the sixth grade now. Mature!"

"I am mature!" she argued. "You just don't have a sense of humor."

He forked some more salad and said, "Partially-chewed food and allowing me to see it does _NOT_ mean you're mature, Santana."

"So," Santana began, changing the subject, "what did you do last weekend?"

Kurt hid his pain and lied. "I just watched TV, did some work in my dad's garage, and…" he waved his hands a little in the air, "you know – stuff."

Santana leaned forward and whispered, "You didn't have another dream about your moth-?"

"No, I didn't." Kurt replied, a little testily.

She narrowed her eyes a little, but let it go. "Well, SINCE you asked about MY weekend," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I had an _AWESOME_ weekend!"

"What did you do?"

"Well," she began, as she situated herself more comfortably (and a little closer to him), "I dug through my abuela's record collection and performed for my mom and dad."

"You sing?"

"Yes, I sing!" she replied with some outrage. "And I think I'm pretty good at it."

"And you dance?"

She rolled her eyes. " _YES_ , I dance!"

Nearby, that cute black girl heard Santana's loud reply and briefly looked at her.

"So, you really did sing to your mom and dad?" Kurt asked. Santana nodded. "Really?!" She nodded again, but _THIS_ time, with an air of pride and enthusiasm.

But Kurt looked away thoughtfully for a moment and then back to her. "That sounds really fun!"

"Yeah…it was…" she looked a little sad as she said, "I just wish this dumb school had a glee club."

"We have a choir."

"It's not the same, Kurt. Look, _IF_ this school were to _EVER_ have a glee club, not only could I sing, but I could sing and dance and be center stage."

Santana looked away dreamily for a long moment before diving into her tots again. But Kurt narrowed his eyes a little at her and had just the tiniest traces of a smile on his face.

"I don't believe you." Kurt flatly said.

Her eyes widened. "It's true! I _CAN_ sing. _AND_ dance. My mom and dad were proud."

"Parents are _SUPPOSED_ to be prou-"

"Oh shut up!" Santana interrupted. "You just…I know what's wrong with you."

"Oh?" Kurt asked, eyes widened and smile gone. "And what's that?"

"You…what's that word Mrs. Hanthorn mentioned in English class…?" she thought for a moment before finally finding it. "Jealous!"

"I am _NOT_ jealous!" Kurt replied. And again, nearby, the cute black girl momentarily, but intentionally, eavesdropped on their conversation. She had a little smile on her face.

"Yes, you are!" Santana said, "And besides…I want your love and I want your revenge."

"Huh?" Kurt asked. And then, barely a second went by before he recognized what she was saying. He looked back at her smug face and said, "Oh, you did _NOT_ just quote Lady Gaga."

And quite unexpectedly, she began to softly, yet conceitedly, sing –

 **YOU KNOW THAT I WANT YOU –**

 **AND YOU KNOW THAT I NEED YOU –**

"Santana! Stop!" Kurt protested. But Santana was not to be denied and the cute, eavesdropping girl now had her full attention.

 **I WANT IT BAD**

 **YOUR BAD ROMANCE**

Kurt just rolled his eyes before an enormous smile filled his face. And, of course, since it's Lady Gaga, he simply HAD to join in –

 **I WANT YOUR LOVE AND**

 **I WANT YOUR REVENGE**

More and more of the Lady Gaga hit fell out of their mouths. Smiles intact and eyes glued to each other, the two silly pre-teens just sang like there was no one else in the room. But as they got to their fifth or sixth lyric, they heard another voice. THIS voice was directly behind Kurt. And soon, there were three voices, gaudily singing the pop song. All three watched each other as they sang to their heart's content. They were having so much fun!

 **CAUGHT IN A BAD ROMAN-**

 _Splash!_

Kurt, Santana, and the arm of the eavesdropping teen suddenly found themselves drenched in a cherry slushy. When he wiped his eyes clear, he watched the retreating form of fellow classmate David Karofsky, who was wiggling an empty cup as he walked.

"Jerk."

Kurt and Santana looked up to see the new girl, who had just spoke, using her napkins to wipe down Kurt's shoulder. Santana too cleared her eyes of the frigid liquid and both looked up at her. She came to a dead stop.

"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Mercedes. Mercedes Jones."

Kurt tried to smile and Santana glared daggers towards the burly boy, who was now at the other end of the cafeteria. A few people were giggling at the assault, but most were consumed with their ordinary, tater tot-filled lives.

"Come on," Mercedes began, shaking her sticky arm, "let's go get cleaned up."

No one spoke. Kurt and Santana, leaving their stuff there, simply got up and followed the cute eavesdropper. The two could barely see and relied on Mercedes to lead them to their eventual destination. And, of course, Mercedes couldn't help but smile, knowing she had their full trust in her.

"In here." Mercedes directed, holding the door open.

Santana walked right in, but Kurt came to a stop.

"But…this is…?"

"Oh, who cares if it's the girl's restroom? We gotta get you cleaned up!"

He barely gave it a second thought and walked into the room. Santana was already at the sink, rinsing her face off. Kurt soon joined her. Mercedes went to the paper towel dispenser, grabbing at least a dozen or so. And very soon, they heard a cry.

"It _BURRRRNS!"_

Kurt and Mercedes watched Santana, hunched over the sink, eyes shut tight.

"It burns! It burns! It burns!"

"Try padding it dry." Mercedes suggested. "Maybe rubbing it in makes it worse."

Kurt was already rinsing his face and tried her suggestion while Santana continued to struggle.

"She's right," Kurt began to Santana. "Pad it. Don't wipe it."

Santana found a big wad of brown, harsh paper towels shoved near her face. She angrily took it, wet it, and began padding her eyes. Mercedes almost happily waltzed over to the dispenser to grab at least another dozen paper towels. But when she turned around, she realized she was being gazed at in wonder. By Kurt.

"Thank you, Mercedes." He began. "Thanks a lot! That really helped." He was nearly done clearing the slushied remains from his face, collar, and shoulder. She politely handed him some dry towels and he gratefully took them.

Of course, Santana was not happy. She _STILL_ struggled to get herself together and hated it.

"Let me help." Mercedes softly said.

Kurt proceeded to watch her gently pad the Latina's face, who was fighting off tears. The tears were obviously from the stinging she was enduring. Obviously.

When she was done, Mercedes tossed the used towel into the garbage can and then used a dry one to wipe up any slushy that dropped on the counter. Santana tried her best to keep her cool, annoyed at a stain on her shirt, and Kurt merely watched the show unfold before him.

But Mercedes continued to work. She wiped down the nearby counter, even going so far as to clean the faucet. The other two watched her in complete awe. Some time passed and STILL, Mercedes was grabbing fresh towels and wiping and rinsing and more fresh towels and… The other two stoically stood by.

Suddenly, Mercedes started to hum. At first, it was just a series of mumblings or something. Neither one wanted to interrupt her, quickly soothed by her velvety voice. And then, the humming became a little more interesting…familiar…

Kurt and Santana simultaneously smiled! They joined in the humming. Surprised, Mercedes stopped wiping the counter, stood erect, and kept the humming going. But that's when Santana began to sing.

 **SANTANA WANTS HER REVENGE!**

And then, Kurt joined in.

 **AND KURT WANTS HIS REVENGE!**

It was as if floodgates opened. All three were singing and introducing themselves over and over again. The empty, ugly girl's bathroom was wonderfully alive with song and even a little dance as three middle school students discovered a new friendship.

Ain't middle school grand?

 **AN: THANK YOU ALL FOR READING! WARNING SAD INTENSE SCENES COMING SOON...I'LL TRY TO UPDATE ASAP. BE PREPARED. HAVE A NICE DAY!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Well HELLO THERE EVERYBODY! Thank you soooooo MUCH for reading this. Since this story is sooooo close to my heart (I miss Selena!), I'm very, very happy you're reading this!** **:)**

 **THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED, FAVORITED AND FOLLOWED!**

 **Dr. Shapiro: Thank you! Your review meant a lot to me! :)**

 **In this story, David Karofsky isn't quite the same as he is in the TV show. He STARTS to be that way, but changes as this story goes along. I think you'll like how he's changed! :)**

 **Also, we're still in the past in this chapter. But our favorite trio of friends (Kurt, Santana, and Mercedes) are growing closer together.**

 **So...ENJOY! Please leave kind reviews! X3 X3 X3!**

 **HAVE A NICE DAY!-ILOVESMEGLEEX3**

 **Chapter 4**

"Kurt! You're not going to believe this!"

He turned away from his open locker to see his ponytail-flying friend practically running down the hall towards him. After a quick and confused glance to Mercedes, he turned back to see the enormous smile on the Latina's face.

"Santana!" Kurt bellowed. "Slow down!"

By then, Santana arrived beside him, a little out of breath.

"You're…not…going…"

"Santana, take a deep breath and calm down."

He reached for her arm and started to gently stroke it. Charmed by her effervescence, he and Mercedes couldn't help but smile. After a few quick breaths, she finally calmed down. A little.

"Kurt Hummel and Mercedes Jones!" Santana proudly began. "You are looking at the new TV commercial representative of Lechuga Motors!"

Their eyes widened.

"What?!" Mercedes exclaimed. "You can't be-"

"Well, I'm auditioning for the part," Santana eagerly began, "but I'm sure I'll get it."

Her smug smile was met by two confused ones.

"Auditioning…?" Mercedes asked.

Santana had, by then, calmed down enough to make sense. Barely.

"I called," she began, "Lechuga Motors after hearing on the radio that they were looking for young women who could sing to be in a commercial." But then, her smile dropped a little. "It took a while to convince my parents to let me do it, and I _KNOW_ they're not too happy about this." And then, her smile returned in full force. "But I convinced them to _AT LEAST_ let me tryout for it! I couldn't believe it when I got my call back from their advertising company! I'm SO _HAPPY_!"

Santana Lopez jumped for joy. She actually jumped for joy!

"Well," Kurt carefully began, "what all do you have to do?"

"Yeah," Mercedes chimed in. "I mean, you don't have to wear a skimpy-"

"Of course not!" Santana said. "No. All they want is someone who can sing and is pretty." She then gave a conceited smile. "I got both."

Kurt rolled his eyes and within a second, Mercedes did the same. But Santana ignored their sarcasm.

"Just think, guys! You _COULD_ be looking at the first and only freshman from McKinley High School who gets on TV!"

Laughing. And not just a giggle here and there. Complete, full-throated laughs of pure ecstasy escaped her throat.

"Well," Mercedes began, walking around Kurt to stand beside her. "I suppose the only other way a freshman from McKinley would get on TV would be if he or she committed a crime."

"Yeah, that's true…" Kurt said.

Santana looked first at Kurt, then at Mercedes and then back again.

"You _GUYYYYS_!" Santana whined. "I'm going to be on TV! Isn't that exciting?!"

Kurt shook his head a little. "Yes, of course it is. Sorry." And then he broadly smiled. "So, when's your tryout?"

"It's an audition." Santana corrected. "And it's a week from this Thursday." If it were possible, her smile widened. "But do you know what this means?"

"What?" Kurt and Mercedes asked.

"Well," she began, leaning on the lockers beside them, "my dad told me that the commercial won't just air here in Lima. Lechuga motors gets their body work from Tennessee and their engine blocks from Texas and Mexico. Just think of the exposure!"

"Oh Santana!" Mercedes started. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Me too!" Kurt added. "So, do you know what you're going to sing for your audition?"

Her smile faded a little as she looked away. "I…I haven't gotten that far."

"Did they give you some idea of what they wanted you to sing?" Kurt asked.

"No. They didn't." Santana stated, looking away. "But I suppose I could find out."

"Yeah!" Kurt replied, suddenly excited. "Maybe you could sing Lady Gaga!"

"Maybe!"

"Or," Mercedes said, "you could sing Britney Spears."

"Maybe!"

"Oh God, the possibilities!" Kurt said, bouncing on his heels a little. "Oh Santana! I'm so _PROUD_ of you!"

"Me _TOOOOO_!"

And that's when they fell into a three-way hug, jumping up and down a little. Laughs on top of laughs fell out of their mouths and their smiles brightened the hallway.

"So!" Kurt started, pulling away, "We have to think of audition songs. We should meet at my house after school!"

"It's a date!" Santana began.

"Yeah!" Mercedes added.

And that's when the three teens spotted Karofsky down the hall, full cup in hand. Their eyes widened and Kurt slammed his locker door shut.

"Let's get outta here!" Kurt exclaimed, grabbing onto his two friends' shoulders, steering them down the other way. "Just come over after school."

The trio quickly strode down the hall. Kurt gave one final glance at Karofsky only to realize that David was actually drinking his slushy. The other two didn't see it. Kurt released a sigh of relief, but kept briskly walking with them anyway. Mercedes just couldn't wipe her beautiful smile off her face. And Santana? Well, that's when it occurred to her that she didn't tell them the other piece of good news. Well, that could wait until they get to Kurt's house after school. There was plenty of time.

.

Kurt was the one to come up with the term 'perma-grin'. It was used ever since Santana told them the fantastic news. Santana Lopez was auditioning for the role of spokesperson for Lechuga Motors – Lima's biggest car dealership. Hugging her books to herself, the happy Latina practically skipped up the driveway and joyfully knocked on the Hummel's front door. She looked around her, just for something to do. Santana almost knocked again when the door was finally opened.

"Come in!" Kurt said, with bright enthusiasm.

After letting her in, Kurt and Santana walked downstairs to Kurt's basement bedroom. Since Mercedes was already there, they didn't waste much time getting ready for rehearsal.

"So," Kurt said, walking towards his stereo, "I thought we could practice a little. Who do you want me to play? Beyonce?"

The girls shook their heads no.

"Lady Gaga?"

 _THIS_ time, the girls vigorously nodded. Kurt smiled. "OK!"

He put the CD in his carousel disc player and was just about to press Play when they were interrupted.

"Guys?"

Kurt and Mercedes turned around, facing her. If they thought Santana had a big smile when she told them the news about the commercial, they were in for an even _BIGGER_ treat. The smile on the fiery Latina's face was priceless.

"There's something I didn't tell you!"

Mercedes and Kurt's eyes widened, but they didn't say anything.

" _Wellllllll_ ," she drawled, "they're also looking for backup singers. I suppoooose I could-"

" _AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_!" Kurt and Mercedes exploded and rushed her! They jumped for joy until they knocked Santana over, laughing and laughing. They rolled over each other. They tickled each other. They exploded in more laughter. Being the typical teenagers they were, they didn't stop doing this for at least ten minutes.

As the evening wore on, they practiced to Britney Spears 'Crazy' and 'Break The Ice'. Then, Lady Gaga got in the rotation with 'Paparazzi' and others. They considered Beyonce, but didn't. They always seemed to come back to Ms. Spears and Ms. Gaga.

As the days rolled on, practice became an almost every evening ritual. And also during this time, they couldn't have been closer. Since the strongest structure in architecture is the triangle, they considered calling themselves that – The Triangle. But the word was awkward and they decided to just skip labels. After all, why bother?

Finally, and after all three teenagers got expressly written consent from their parents (since they're minors), it was the day of the audition. Kurt picked them up in his Navigator. They were all nervous. They were all anxious. They were all rehearsing in their heads.

And they all got the part.

.

Several weeks later, the trio, along with a few other family and friends were in Santana Lopez's living room. Cru de ta and various non-alcoholic beverages were on a couple of tables and parents were smiling and greeting other parents. Some other kids from McKinley were already there, but not many. The trio decided that the airing of the commercial would be a secret until it premiered.

And that night was the night.

As Kurt was chatting with Mercedes, Santana heard the doorbell ring. This wasn't uncommon. Many guests had already arrived and a few more were expected. But Santana got a big shock when the door was opened. Craning her neck even further, her jaw dropped in recognition.

"Kurt!" Santana loudly whispered.

He jumped a little, annoyed at the interruption. "What?"

"Who invited him?"

She pointed to the door as Kurt turned around. A small smile adorned his pale face.

"I did."

Santana was astonished! "Why? He's been nothing but trouble. He slushies us any time he get-"

"Not anymore." Kurt confidently said. "He's not the annoying boy he used to be."

"But Karofsky? Here? Really?"

"Yes, really. He's actually a good guy."

Her eyes narrowed. "How would you know?"

Kurt glanced at Dave and, with a little smile, nodded. Dave smiled and nodded back, making a bee-line towards the nearest food and beverage area. Then, he turned back towards her.

"I've been…" Kurt hesitated.

"Yeah, Kurt." Mercedes interrupted. "Since when you do hang out with David Karofsky of all-"

"I don't exactly 'hang out', per se." He said. "I've run into him a couple of times at school and he's…grown up."

He looked away from them. Had they been more intuitive, they would've seen that Kurt was lying.

"Him?" Mercedes incredulously asked. Santana looked at him suspiciously.

"Yes him!" Kurt replied with some outrage. "He's…an OK guy."

"And I'm going to see to that." Santana said, stood up, and quickly walked over to Dave before anybody could say anything.

"Hey Karofsky!"

"Y-yuuhh?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Chew and swallow. Now."

Sheepishly, Dave chewed a couple of times and swallowed his cracker.

"H-hi, Santana." Dave tried to sound happy and innocent, but it went absolutely nowhere.

"You better be on your-"

"I am, Santana." Dave interrupted, with surprising confidence. THAT got her attention.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. I was invited here by Kurt. He told me something exciting was happening with you and him and Mercedes, but he wouldn't tell me. So, he invited me here and…here I am."

Dave couldn't have been more nervous. But Santana decided to have a little fun with that.

"Well, just don't forget." Santana threateningly said. "Do you know that deli just two houses down from mine?"

"Y-yeah." Dave replied with confusion.

"Well," she crossed her arms defensively. "they make some of the best shredded meat sandwiches in Allen County." Dave's eyebrows knotted in even further confusion. "They're really tasty. But they also," and then, she leaned towards him and lowered her voice, "shred their own meat. If you cause any problems for me here, and you better not because tonight is IMPORTANT, they know what to do with the body."

Dave gulped.

"Understand?"

" _Y-y-yyeeaah._ "

She evilly smiled. "Good." And with that, she happily turned around and began walking away.

"Hey Santana!"

She stopped and turned around. But _THIS_ time, Dave wasn't nervous or shook up. Instead, he stood up straight and took two confident steps towards her.

"Whatever is going on…?" Dave began. "Well…congratulations."

She didn't even try to stop her surprise. Instead, she just nodded, turned, and went back to her friends.

It took him about another ten minutes to work up the courage to approach them.

"H-hi Kurt." Dave nervously said.

"Well, hello there David! I'm so glad you could come."

Dave partially smiled. "Thanks for the invite."

"Of course. Wanna sit here?"

Kurt motioned for a chair near them. The girls didn't even try to hide their suspicions. Glaring daggers into his skull, they sat in silence. Dave bore it well, keeping his eyes mostly on Kurt or the floor.

"Five minutes everyone!" Mr. Lopez announced. A round of 'ooohs' and 'aaaahs' filled the room. The trio all smiled and giggled to each other. But a few others, Dave included, just looked at everyone, trying to get any information from the party guests. It didn't work.

"I have to pee." Kurt announced, rushing off to the bathroom.

"Me too." Mercedes added, and she too ran off towards the second bathroom.

That left Santana and Dave alone. They did a little routine, then – they looked at the floor, at each other, back to the floor, at the other party guests, at each other, etc. It was boring and tiring. But they weren't friends and didn't know what to say to each other.

"He's helped me."

Santana whirled her head around to the anxious jock.

"What?"

"He-he's helped me."

"Really?" Santana asked with a bored sigh. "Well, that's good…I suppose."

"Yeah. Actually, it's been great."

She sighed again. "Well, whatever he's been-"

"I'm gay."

She came to a dead halt. "Ummm, excuse me? I must've misunderstood. But did you say you were actually-?"

"G-gay." Dave quietly interrupted. "I'm not ready to come out at school or to anyone else. But…Kurt's been very helpful. That's partially why he invited me here tonight."

"W-wow, Karofsky. That's-"

"Call me David from now on. Karofsky is dead."

She couldn't have shown more confusion. Minutes passed in silence as she just studied him. A thousand questions about him and Kurt were on her mind, but they were interrupted.

"One minute!"

A round of cheers from those who knew what was about to happen filled the room. Most of them looked at Santana and smiled. Then, Kurt and Mercedes returned. It couldn't have been a more exciting, more nervous time that evening. Finally, FINALLY, it was time.

.

" _That was amazing!"_

 _"Girl, you can sing!"_

 _"That's my girl!"_

 _"I'm so proud of you, mine chica!"_

 _"Dios mios!"_

More and more exclamations filled the room and the trio found themselves surrounded by congratulatory people, Dave included. The three were kissed over and over, and a happy toast was made in their honor. Santana could've sworn her precious abuela was drinking alcohol but wasn't sure. All in all, the party really kicked into high gear and everybody was having a good time.

Unfortunately, it was a school night. And for the adults, it was a work night. Moans and groans escaped people's mouths as the offending clock showed ten PM. By ten thirty, most of the guests had left, but not before yet more kisses and hugs were given to the trio.

 _MAYBE WE ARE A TRIANGLE_ , Kurt thought. He almost shared that thought with Santana and Mercedes, but didn't, for some unknown reason. Instead, he offered assistance just as the final guest walked out the door.

"Want some help?" Kurt offered.

"Ummm…" Santana hesitated.

"Well, I'm going to help anyway." A little smile on his face, he glanced sideways at her as he scooped up the contents of an ashtray.

They worked in companionable silence for several minutes.

"I wish," Santana began, "Mercedes could've stayed longer."

"Well," Kurt said, "her grandmother needs help getting around the house. She had to help her."

"Oh, I didn't know that!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, she doesn't-"

"Want some help?"

They turned toward the voice and Santana continued to be shocked by David Karofsky's change in behavior.

"Ummm, s-sure Dave. Thanks!" Kurt handed Dave a big garbage can and pointed to the city's dumpster, just around the corner. When he left, Santana just stared at Kurt.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"You know, not even two days ago, we were keeping an eye on that bozo jock. We didn't know if any slushies would hit our faces or anything. And then," she took a careful step towards him, "he told me."

Kurt's eyes widened for a second before he started working again. "He's still adjusting. Don't tell anyone."

"Oh, I won't! I won't. I just…" Kurt came to a stop as Santana tried to find her words. "I'm just shocked that's all."

Kurt half-smiled. "He really is a good guy."

"Yeah." She firmly stated. "Yes. He is."

Work resumed. Dave came back and was told he wasn't needed anymore. He protested, seeing how the living room _STILL_ looked like hell. But in the end, he shrugged and surprised them by _HUGGING THEM!_ And with a firm, boyish smile, he abruptly turned and left.

"I think," Santana began, "I could get used to him being around."

.

About a half an hour later, Kurt and Santana were done. All trash bags, all empty or half-empty containers were gone, all ashtrays were cleaned, and the atmosphere of the living room became…well, a living room. The two teens plopped on the couch and held hands. They said nothing. They did nothing. And they were having the time of their lives.

"What do you think," Kurt quietly began, "things will be like at school tomorrow?"

Santana turned her head and smiled. "I think we'll be stars."

"You think so?"

"Of course I do! You don't?"

"Oh no, no." Kurt hesitatingly replied. "I…I _THINK_ we will. It's just…"

"What?" Santana gently asked. She scooted a little closer, still holding his hand.

"When I was younger," Kurt softly began, "I got singing and dancing lessons."

"I didn't know that!"

"Yeah, I did." Kurt darkly chuckled. "My mom wanted it."

Santana said and did nothing.

"Well, she helped me identify talent. I mean, _REAL_ talent." He flipped his head up and saw the concerned face of Santana Lopez fill his vision. "Santana?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You've got it."

Her eyes widened a little. "W-what?"

"You've _GOT_ it. You've got that talent to…go places."

Santana looked away, eyes still wide but lost in thought.

"Who knows," Kurt carefully began, "where this commercial could lead you?"

"You know, could lead _US_."

Kurt chuckled and looked back down. "Not exactly. You don't need Mercedes and me as your Pips. You could-"

"Yes, I do! You're dead, fucking wrong on that one Kurt. I _DO_ need you! My star will _NOT_ shine as bright if I don't have you guys! You and Mercedes are incredible singers! You and-"

"But you've _GOT_ it, Santana."

She went silent as Kurt leaned in closer. He whispered, "The singing, the dancing, the stage presence… You could be a star if you want."

"A star…" Santana thoughtfully said. "A star…."

Suddenly, she brushed herself off, stood up, and offered her hand to Kurt.

"Reminds me of what I said about Dave." Santana said.

Kurt looked at her confused as he used her hand to stand up. He watched as she started heading towards the kitchen.

"What did you say?" Kurt asked.

She stopped and slowly turned around. One of the most gorgeous smiles Kurt had ever seen adorned her beautiful face.

"I said," Santana slowly, almost dreamily replied, "I could get used to that."

.

 **AN: THANK YOU FOR READING! :) MORE TO COME :) X3**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: ATTENTION EVERYBODY! You are AWESOME! 16 Followers! I'M SO HAPPY! X3 X3 X3**

 **My thanks to everybody who has reviewed so far. And a special thank you to Dr. Shapiro. I hope you keep reading! :)**

 **And a special thanks to my awesome betareader umbrella0326 - you are awesome!**

 **OK - so, in this chapter, we're time-jumping. We're back to the present and we see the aftermath of Santana's murder. You're in for a treat! We'll go back to the past after this chapter.**

 **ENJOY!**

 **And, please, leave kind reviews!**

 **THANK YOU!**

 **HAVE A NICE DAY! - ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**

 **Chapter 5**

"I'm standing outside the _VERY_ dressing room where up-and-coming Latina singing sensation Santana Lopez was murdered in cold blood earlier this evening."

The local news reporter solemnly reports the sad news that, by now, has sent shock waves throughout Texas, and the word, tonight. It's amazing how fast news travels. It has been only an hour since Santana was brutally murdered and news about her death is presented to the public in less than half that time.

"Ms. Santana Lopez, famous for her powerhouse voice and hit after hit and specifically known for being humble and very much loved amongst her fans, _WAS_ set to perform at the NRG Astrodome here in Corpus Christi, Texas tonight. Moments before she was to hit the stage, someone broke into her room and slit the singer's throat in cold blood. Santana just Twenty one and in the prime of her career. She passed away on her way to the nearest hospital from severe blood loss. Paramedics did all they could to save her but by the time she was found she was brain dead. It is rumored that Kurt Hummel, Santana's backup singer and close friend found the singer lying on the floor, drowned in her blood. Other reports and rumors have suggested that the singer was still barely hanging on to life when she was found. And in a panic, Kurt Hummel tried to save his friend. But it was too late. Other speculations are that Mr. Hummel was in the dressing room with the singer moments before she was killed. He has told reporters that he and Ms. Lopez were in the room alone when he was with her. The last time he saw her was when he was the first to leave the room." The news reporter stated.

"Because he was the last person to see Ms. Lopez alive, police are currently questioning Mr. Hummel at Corpus Christi Police Headquarters and it is possible that he might be a suspect in this case. No one knows for sure what really happened. And we were able to catch up to Mr. Hummel as he was being taken away for questioning. Here's the clip."

The reporter looks down as he awaits for a recording to begin. He doesn't have to wait very long. Soon, a striking image of Kurt being escorted by a burly Corpus Christi police officer fill the screen. Kurt looks like he is suffering – puffy, wide eyes, and clothes in disarray. The police officer easily places his brawny hand around Kurt's bicep as reporters suddenly rush to the scene. The cop extends his other arm, a silent warning to the reporters to get out of their way. But Kurt simply looks stunned.

"Mr. Hummel, did you kill Santana Lopez?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Do you have anything to say, Mr. Hummel?"

"Where's the knife, you killer?!"

"Were you two close friends? Were you lovers?"

"When did Martians tell you to kill her?"

The questions overlapped, sending Kurt's mind whirling. Halfway from the Astrodome to a waiting police car, Kurt exploded.

 _"NO NOT SANTANA! SAAAAANNNNTANNNNA! I DIDN'T DO IT! I DID NOT KILL MY BEST FRIEND! I WOULD NEVER-"_

"She's your best friend? Why did you kill her?"

"Seriously. When DID Martians tell you to-?"

"Did Santana's rival pop singer conspire-?"

 _"-HURT SANTANA! SHE WAS A SISTER TO ME! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! MY BEST FRIEND WAS STABBED TONIGHT AND I'M SUPPOSED TO BE IN MOURNING! NOT HERE BEING ACCUSED WHAT I'M BEING ACCUSED OF. WHY WON'T ANYONE BELIEVE ME?!"_

Kurt's head is being pushed down as he plopped into the backseat. All around him, flashes from cameras and hurricane-like questions overwhelm him. Kurt has no choice but to slump in his seat, staring ahead and looking at absolutely nothing. He's barely aware that the police officer has sat down, placed the car in 'drive', and is driving away.

 _SHE'S GONE,_ Kurt thought. _SHE'S GONE…_

.

"-rupt death of the Hispanic pop sensation San-"

"-trodome is denying any responsibility in the attack-"

"-her fans continue to grieve and cry out-"

"Police are ruling her death a homicide and detectives have-"

"-spanic Pop music sales have tripled in the last-"

"Person of interest Kurt Hummel is held-"

The TV suddenly goes black. Alone and confused, Kurt wonders why he's even allowed to watch the reports as he continued to sit in the interrogation room. He swallows the huge lump in his throat, trying hard not to cry. The chair he is sitting in is uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he can't prevent flashes back to the very moment he saw his friend dying, powerless to stop it. He rubs his exhausted eyes desperately trying to keep it together.

Suddenly, a large, barrel-chested man enters the room and swiftly sits down across from Kurt. The man's green eyes were glued to Kurt the whole time and a long, uncomfortable moment passes. Kurt shifts in his seat, clearly unsettled by the overbearing presence of the detective. And then, quite suddenly, the detective clears his throat.

"Mr. Hummel, my name is Detective Brian Hanthorn." He matter-of-factly says. "I'm here to question you about the death of San-"

"Am I under arrest?" Kurt snappily asks.

"No," Brian answers. "No, you're not. You're being-"

"Then I can leave." Kurt stands up, but that's as far as he gets before he sees a hand extended towards him. At first glance, Kurt thinks the detective is giving him a 'Heil Hitler' sign.

"Sit down, Mr. Hummel." He says with firm authority. "You're being questioned and have been declared a 'person of interest.'"

"'Person of interest?'" Kurt asks, slowly sitting back down.

"Yes. You're a person of interest in the death of Santana Lopez."

Kurt eyes him warily. "Do I need my attorney?"

"No… At least, not yet. We're simply asking questions."

"You don't have the right-"

"Mr. Hummel," Brian exasperatedly begins, "we have the right to hold you as a person of interest for twenty-four hours."

Kurt's jaw drops. "B-but…But I'm innocent!"

"That's what we're trying to determine." And then, Brian's voice softens a little. "And we WILL determine that."

There it is. That is the moment Kurt has been waiting for. Someone, _ANYONE_ to at least consider Kurt's innocence. Having seen just a little ray of hope, Kurt decides to shut up and cooperate. It must've been apparent to the detective, since Kurt relaxes a little in his seat, letting his body connect to the chair's back.

"Now," the detective began, opening a file already on the table, "I need you to tell me what you saw when you returned to Ms. Lopez' dressing room."

"There on the floor…was my h-heart and soul," Kurt softly said. "My best friend in the entire world was slipping away right in front of me."

The detective looks into Kurt's eyes and something told him that Kurt isn't lying. Maybe it's Kurt's tears that are threatening to fall…

Something told Detective Hanthorn to really listen to Kurt and not just throw the book at him. At first the hard-ass detective didn't believe a word out of Kurt's mouth. All evidence points to him. Even if she _IS_ his best friend, as Kurt claimed, Detective Hanthorn has heard of crazier things in his twenty years on the force. But then as Kurt kept talking and explaining what happened, call him crazy but Brian Hanthorn started to believe him. It was in his eyes – the innocence in Kurt's youthful eyes couldn't be that of a cold-blooded killer. Of course, the detective thought Kurt _COULD_ be lying. But deep down Brian knew there was more to this story and he was going to get to the truth no matter what. He has to do. Brian loves his job and wants to give this famous and beloved young lady some justice. That is what every good Detective wants. And he was very good.

"She was alive when I went back for her..." Kurt Hummel stops talking, taking a deep shuddering breath and looking down at his shaky hands. He couldn't look at the detective anymore. He just wants to go home. He wants his friend back! He wants things to go back to normal.

He wants a lot of things he would never get back again. Life as he knew it is never _EVER_ going to be the same again. And that truth hit him like ice-cold water on his face. He couldn't breathe.

Detective Hanthorn couldn't stand to see Kurt crying any longer. He was a cold-hearted Detective but he wasn't that cruel. So as he waited for Kurt to continue he gets up and gets the smaller guy some water from the water dispenser in the corner of the room.

Detective Hanthorn clears his throat pointing at the small white cup. Kurt finally looks up after a moment as the overhead light in the flickers, casting shadowy darkness in the room. His eyes brimmed with tears, taking the proffered water. He couldn't comprehend why the larger guy with his badge and gun is being so nice to him suddenly.

Kurt is abruptly confused by the detective's sudden polite behavior. At first, the detective was cold. Kurt isn't used to this type of behavior. He doesn't like the older heavier guy one bit. Despite all of that Kurt decided he would just accept his congeniality. Kurt took a drink of the water letting the coldness hit the back of his throat. The water was much needed since all that crying made him exhausted and dehydrated.

"Please continue Mr. Hummel." The detective started. "After you calm down, of course. This will go a helluva a lot faster if you just coope-."

 _"I AM COOPERATING! THIS IS HORSE SHIT! I DIDN'T KILL HER! WHY WOULD I? I HAVE DONE EVERYTHING YOU ASKED OF ME! I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW! WHY CAN'T YOU GUYS JUST LEAVE ALONE?! I WANNA GO SEE MY BOYFRIEND! I'M INNOCENT! I HAD NO REASON TO HURT MY SAN! NO REASON! I'M BEING ACCUSED OF SOMETHING SO HORRIFIC THAT I DIDN'T DO OK?! THE KILLER IS STILL OUT THERE AND YOU IDIOTS ARE SO STUPID AND WASTING YOUR-"_ Kurt stops talking. Or, more like shouting. Kurt missed Blaine so much. It has been exactly two hours since the lovers saw each other. But to Kurt, it feels like an eternity. He just wants to feel safe again. And Blaine was always that comfort for him.

"Mr. Hummel! Calm down! We just want to know why this happened! I don't like this either! I could care less about you! I just wanna do my damn job. But your little outbursts aren't helping! I got a family too. You don't think I wanna be with them now? I would rather be home than listening to your shrill voice! I have to keep you here until I find out the truth so we could both move on!" Kurt's eyes bulge as Detective Hanthorn just lets loose.

Several minutes pass by before either man speaks up. Kurt Hummel breaks the tension seeping in the air.

"OK, fine." Kurt says with a much calmer almost defeated voice. "I give up. Keep me here. I don't care. But I _HAVE_ told you everything I know. If you're trying to get a confession out of me, it won't work. I didn't do it. I'm _NOT_ lying. Do whatever you want with me. I'll take a lie detector if I have to. Just... do whatever. It doesn't matter. Nothing does. My beautiful friend is gone now. So what does it matter what I say?" Kurt looks down at his hands and whispers so softly that the detective has to bend down to hear him. "You won't believe me."

.

"Kurt Hummel?"

The clerk punch in the name on her keyboard, lips pursed in determination. Blaine looked around him, nervously tapping the counter. His fingers movements grew in intensity. He grabbed a hotel brochure, barely read it, and put it back. Blaine's attention returned to the clerk, wondering just how hard it was to look up a hotel guest's name.

"Ah!" she said, "Kurt Hummel. He's in room _5112_."

" _5112_ ," Blaine repeated. He was already off and running. "Thank you." He didn't wait for a response. In just five or six more long strides, he had reached the elevator. The ride up was nerve-wracking. And when he reached the fifth floor, he could've sworn the doors were slowly opening on purpose. Finally, they opened and he leaped out, practically running down the carpeted hallway. He didn't even double-check the room number when he frantically knocked.

"Who is it?" the muffled voice on the other side of the door asked.

"It's me."

"Who's me?"

"It's Blaine!"

The door immediately opened. Blaine's eyes widened at the disheveled look of his boyfriend.

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed.

They fell into each other in the doorway. Arms tightened, hands clung to hair, and Blaine kicked the door shut. They held each other in the tiny foyer as gently flowing conditioned air tickled their ears. Lips connected to necks and hands impossibly tightened. Tears just couldn't help but flow for those long, long moments.

"Blaine…" Kurt painfully whispered.

"Shhh. Shhhh." Blaine soothingly replied, gently stroking the back of Kurt's head. They continued to hold each other, wiping their own tears from their faces. Finally, though, hand-in-hand, they strolled to the room where an eagerly awaiting Mercedes Jones stood up from the bed. Behind her, and at a considerable distance, Detective Hanthorn saw and, with the aid of long distance surveillance device, heard most of their conversation.

"Mercedes!" Blaine acknowledged and ran to her open arms. With nearly as much passion, they held onto each other for dear life. Her lips shook with passion as he held her tightly to his chest. Little tufts of breath escaped her quaking lips as he held the back of her head. She flattened her hands on his back and gently stroked as he slowly did the same. Kurt watched with reluctant love in his heart. Dear God, how he loved them both!

Slowly, they pulled apart, holding each other's hands. With one final glance at each other, Blaine pulled back and turned towards his boyfriend. He guided Kurt to the bed and motioned for Kurt to sit on the edge, right across from a now-seated Mercedes. Blaine passed between them and sat beside Kurt.

"This might sound," Blaine gently began, "like the dumbest question on the planet, but…" he grabbed Kurt's right hand, "are you OK?"

Kurt wetly chuckled before replying, "Yeah, I'm OK…" And then, he leaned towards Blaine, "now."

"Hey now," Mercedes humorously intervened, "what am I over here? Chicken feed?"

Everybody laughed a little – one of those moments that was so desperately needed. Detective Hanthorn smiled a little.

"Oh, honey. You've been so good for me too." Kurt said.

"I know, I know." She politely said.

Nobody said anything for a long moment. The gravity of the situation hit them really hard that day. A much needed pause in verbage was needed. Instead, three friends simply sat together, their presence more important than anything. After all, don't actions speak louder than words?

"How did," Kurt began, "you get here so fast?"

Blaine half turned towards him. "When I heard what happened, I threw a bunch of clothes into a bag and flew to Houston. I just…grabbed the first available flight."

"Oh!" Kurt said. "That must've cost a fortune! How much did it-?"

"It doesn't matter, Kurt." Blaine soothingly said, gently stroking Kurt's temple. "I'm here. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Yes." Kurt replied with a gentle sigh. "Yes, it does."

"God, I love you Kurt." Blaine passionately declared. Even Detective Hanthorn grit his teeth together.

"Oh, I love you too Blaine!" And then, they fell into each other again. Mercedes watched with love in her heart. Detective Hanthorn did not.

"You know," Mercedes happily began, "I'm going to have to separate you two!"

Klaine (as was the nickname they gave each other) giggled. They actually giggled.

"OK, OK," Kurt said, pulling back. "We'll behave."

"On second thought," Mercedes said, standing up. "I think I'm going to give you two some ALONE time together."

She started to head towards the door but was stopped when Kurt grabbed her hand. "Oh, you don't have to-"

"I know." She interrupted. "I _WANT_ to. And besides, I need to call my mom. Tell her I'm OK. I also need to talk to her about…" she looked away, "the very real possibility that I need a lawyer." Kurt frowned, followed by Blaine. "That interrogation was so…" Brian perked his ears up as Klaine watched her. "Never mind. I'll see you guys later." And with barely a second glance back, she whisked out of the room, to her own room just down the hall. The door had barely shut before Blaine couldn't stand not knowing anymore.

"Interrogation?"

Kurt sighed. "Yes. She and I were interrogated."

"What happened?" Blaine asked, now turning his body completely towards him. Blaine pulled his left leg up on the bed, his foot almost touching Kurt's thigh.

"Well," Kurt began with a long, drawn-out sigh, "I was taken from the Astrodome to the police car. Oh my God, Blaine! The reporters! They were…AWFUL!"

Kurt put his head in his hands but did not cry. Blaine started to raise his hand to touch Kurt's, but decided not to. Brian smiled.

"Anyway," Kurt resumed, letting his hands drop, "I was taken to this…room. It looked like any interrogation room you'd see on TV. And then, this guy walked in. He said his name was Detective Brian…Handorne or something."

Blaine bobbed. Brian bristled.

"So, this Detective…Hanshorne or whatever starts asking me these questions and it…it…" Kurt looked away. "I just told them the truth."

"What truth?" Blaine genuinely asked.

Kurt looked at him with betrayal. "That I didn't do it! That I _LOST_ my best friend! What else was I-?!"

"No, Kurt, sweetie." Blaine soothingly began, "I mean, what questions did he ask?"

"Oh," Kurt said, a little apologetically. "That I was the last one to…s-see her ali-alive… And that I didn't see anyone else in the room. Oh! And that Santana w-was my…b-b-best fri-friend." Kurt looked away again and Blaine immediately held Kurt's right hand. He gave it a loving squeeze but Kurt didn't respond.

"Oh, _babyyyyy_!" Blaine comfortingly said. "I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that."

Blaine scooted a little closer. "Here."

Kurt turned to him and immediately got the message. Gratefully, Kurt placed his head on Blaine's shoulder just as Blaine gently clasped the other side of Kurt's head. Brian gripped his microphone a little tighter.

"Just sit here, Kurt. You don't have to say anymore."

And that was Brian's cue. He put his equipment away and left his shadowy location.

"Thank you, Blaine. Thank you for coming to Houston. Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for…being you." Kurt sighed and closed his eyes.

"You're very welcome, babe."

And two young men sat there, holding each other for quite a while. Kurt was simply cried out – too tired to cry but not too tired to sleep. It's too bad Detective Hanthorn left when he did. Had he stayed a little longer, he would've seen just how close Blaine and Kurt _REALLY_ were…

.

 **AN: Thank you all for reading! :) That was intense! :( Next up... The past. Thank you again. If you have questions, let me know. Have a Nice Day!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hi everyone.**

 **Sooooo... I haven't updated in almost a year with this story. I have no excuses. But I am terribly sorry.**

 **But without getting into a long explaination about why I haven't updated I'd just thought I'd say this...**

 **I planned on updating MONTHS AGO but somethings went down in my life that I had to take a step back and focus on those things instead.**

 **Also I suck at updating stories, I admit that but I do TRY my hardest to update when I can.**

 **Anyway thats all I wanted to say. :)**

 **I will NEVER not finish what I start. :)**

 **I hope you all understand. :)**

 **Anyway on to the story... We are back in a flashback. This is one year before Santana was brutally murdered.**

 **I wanted to keep it light and fluffy and cute because next chapter... Is some HEAVY shit. :(**

 **All I'll say on that.**

 **Without further ado, introducing Brittany and the first time Brittana meets. :)**

 **Brittany is a little different here, just slightly but not much. She's still in character here but it will change soon... You will see what I mean in future chapters. :)**

 **Also this chapter takes place in Houston,Texas and I'm using real places fictiously here. :)**

 **The song is 'You Drive Me Crazy" by the QUEEN herself Britney Spears! :)**

 **I'm a HUGE Britney fan! :)**

 **Thank you ALL FOR THE SUPPORT. PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE BE KIND.**

 **HAVE A GREAT DAY!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**

 **Chapter 6**

 **ONE YEAR BEFORE SANTANA'S DEATH –**

"This is boring." Kurt whined.

Santana almost joined him. "I know. But it's gotta be done, Kurtie."

He got up from the fold-out table and started walking towards the coffee station. "Don't call me that."

Santana giggled, pulling her hair behind her head. "Oh, you're just a poopyhead today."

Kurt sprinkled some Splenda into his Styrofoam cup. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

He returned, gingerly setting his coffee down on the table and then plopping down in his chair. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are infinity."

"No, I'm not infinity plus one!"

Santana looked at him wondrously. "What?!"

"Never mind." Kurt said, taking a sip of his coffee. His face scrunched up almost immediately. "Ugghh."

"Oh so sorry there isn't a Starbucks nearby."

Kurt groaned. Santana laughed. The door opened.

The pair of nearly lifelong friends craned their heads to the far-end of the room. Kurt sighed in annoyance.

"Could," Kurt loudly began, "someone please pull back the curtain a little more? It's hard to see them."

Santana put her head down trying her darnedest to hide her laughter. Kurt elbowed her and that shut her up.

"Owww." Santana whined, rubbing her rib cage. "Bitch."

"That's right."

They both giggled at that.

And when a stagehand pulled back the curtain on the stage, a clearer view of the girls quickly became visible. In front of them stood six or eight girls, all in their early twenties, and of varying races. Every single one wore standard dance attire and stared at The one and only Santana Lopez. For a moment, every single one of them was starstruck. And then, one-by-one, they all put their own version of a dancing game-face on.

"Ladies!" Kurt announced, still seated. "I'm sure you know the person sitting next to me." Every single dancer looked at Santana and very, very, very broadly smiled. All except one. "This is Miss Santana Lopez." Santana nodded briefly. "And this is an audition for backup dancers. Each of you will be given five minutes to," Kurt put up his hands, jazz hands-style, "dazzle us. All of you will be excused soon and you will be called in at random to perform. When your performance is over, you can leave. We'll call you if you get the part. And an undetermined number of backup dancers will be hired. Any questions?"

No one raised their hands.

"Good." Kurt continued, "Now, when I-" Kurt saw a hand raised in the air, from the back row. "Yes?"

A pretty blonde dancer dropped her hand and asked, "What if we can wiggle our hands?"

Kurt looked perplexed, glanced at Santana who looked confused as well, and returned to the dancer. "Umm…what?"

"Well, what if we can't wiggle our hands?"

He looked even more bewildered and asked, "I'm sorry, I don't under-"

"Well," the blonde continued, "you said we'll be given five minutes to wiggle our hands. What if we can't do that for five minutes?"

All of the dancers giggled. Kurt and Santana just looked absolutely stunned, but Santana took a second look at her. She looked at Kurt and mouthed the words 'she's hired!' Kurt giggled.

"Umm, no." Kurt carefully said. "We'll just want you to do your dance routine."

"Oh good!" the blonde dancer said. "Wiggling my hands for five minutes isn't why I came here today!"

The dancers laughed out loud. Kurt even couldn't hold back a little laugh. But Santana narrowed her eyes a little, studying the attractive dancer.

"OK," Kurt announced, "you all are excused. We'll call you in one-by-one."

And with that, the dancers left. When the door was shut, Kurt looked down his list, called out the first name, and the auditions began.

The first four were remarkable. Nearly flawless in fact. Kurt loved what he saw with every single dancer and secretly was relieved when the final decision wasn't up to him. It never ceased to amaze him how people, with enough training, can seem like they're simply gliding, truly defying the rules of gravity. At the end of each performance, he heartily clapped.

Meanwhile, Santana provided obligatory applause with each dancer. Kurt, ever the perfect host, thanked each one and excused them. And before the next dancer was called in, he leaned close to her.

"What the hell do you want Santana? Mikhail Baryshnikov's dancing partner was unavailable."

She sighed. "I don't knooooow. I'm just not…wow'ed by anybody so far."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nooooo!"

"Well, these dancers are from some of the best dancing troupes in Houston, Phoenix, even New Orleans. _TRY_ to pick one, OK?"

Santana sighed.

"Santaaaaana!"

"Oh, alright!" She sideways smiled at him and his smile beamed across the room. After a quick kiss on her lips, he turned back to the stage.

"Number 5!" He yelled. And then, he looked at his card. "Ummm, Brittany Pierce?"

A couple of seconds later, a young, blonde woman walked towards the center of the stage.

"She's the one," Kurt began, "that wrote down she was a mathematics major at MIT." He leaned towards her and whispered, "Yeah, right!"

She elbowed him, perhaps a bit too roughly. He winced, appalled that she actually meant it. "Don't be mean." She whispered. As he rubbed his rib cage, she addressed the dancer. "Go ahead. Whenever you're ready."

But the dancer didn't even react. Instead, she looked past her towards the auditorium's press box and slightly nodded. A familiar dance melody blasted through the speakers, catching Kurt and Santana off guard _. NO ONE_ selected this performer. And neither knew why. THIS performer was perfect for an audition.

And right when the song began, the dancer slid into one of the most erotic, self-pleasuring moves either of them had ever seen. Brittany glided on the stage, rotated her pelvis, strode over to them, bent over in front of Santana, and naughtily pulled out her gum. And just as Brittany pulled herself away, she slid the gum on Santana's card, stretching out the gum along her slender finger.

Kurt almost laughed until he saw how transfixed Santana was – her mouth was open and he thought he saw drool on the corners of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Brittany slid, spread her legs, pulled her crotch, begged with her mouth, caressed her breasts, licked her lips…

And with no warning whatsoever, strode right up to Santana and began singing!

 **Tell me, you're so into me**

 **That I'm the only one you will see**

And _AGAIN_ with no warning, she grabbed Santana's hand and practically pulled her out of the chair. She danced backwards pulling the Latina, who couldn't stop staring at Brittany's full breasts. Kurt watched with wide eyes and had already vanished from their minds. When she had Santana where she wanted her, Brittany proceeded to wriggle along her body, snaking her whole body up and down Santana's backside. She looped her arm around Santana's neck and pulled herself right up to Santana's face.

 **I just can't sleep**

 **I'm so excited, I'm in too deep**

Santana couldn't breathe. She couldn't close her mouth. Eyes locked and wouldn't let go. And soon after, the music came to a close…

They stared at each other – Brittany breathing hard from exertion and Santana just breathing hard. There was no one else in the room – it was just Santana, Brittany, and their oversexualized bodies.

"You're hired." Santana whispered.

.

"I said goddamn, goddamn, goddamn, _GODDAMN_!" Santana angrily muttered to herself. She was sure others passing by on Congress Avenue were looking at her strange. Right there on the corner was a beautiful, fiery Latina, panting heavily , and leaning against a building. From time to time, she peered around the corner as a light rain fell on her face. In the distance, she could see a few fans and even Paparazzi who found her earlier, still searching for her. She quickly pulled back and caught her breath. However, her mane of black hair was gradually getting wet. And wetter.

"Mierda!" Santana muttered.

Spotting a little diner across the street, she jaywalked towards it. When a cute little Mitsubishi got too close and honked, she merely held up her hand and forced it to wait. As she passed it, she smiled at the driver who honked again and gave her the One-Finger Salute.

The 'ding!' of the alarm sounded when she opened the door. It was a typical diner down by the Buffalo Bayou – rows of tables with booths on the far wall. A chalkboard with daily specials was on the far wall and an array of revolting looking desserts sat in a glass deli.

Ignoring all of this, she tightened her windbreaker around her and put on her hoodie. Santana slid into a booth and almost instantaneously, a waitress surprised her.

"Getcha somethin' to drink?"

Santana resisted the urge to give the waitress a lengthy fashion address and simply said, "Coffee."

The waitress left and Santana didn't care. She shivered a little, thanks to the rain and adrenaline. Hoping to lift her spirits, she pulled a menu from the condiment container and tried distracting herself. Of course it didn't work. So, she just tossed it aside and covered her face with both hands. She inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled very, very slowly…

"You runnin' from them too?"

Santana inwardly groaned and removed her hands. She was just about to tell the interloper off when she looked up and recognized her. It was that sexy dancer from before. Brittany.

"Runnin'?"

"Yeah. Runnin'. I'm runnin' from them too."

"You are?"

Brittany shifted her weight where she stood, just a hair closer to Santana. "Yeah, I've been runnin' from them for the past few minutes. You?"

"For the past few years." Santana dryly said.

"Years?!" Brittany astonishingly asked, sitting down without even being invited. "Wow! How do you do it?"

"I just… I don't know."

"Well, you have my admiration, Ms. Lop-"

"Shhhh! Not so loud!"

"Oh. Sorry. I'm sure you don't want anymore of them in your hair."

Confused, Santana asked, "Sorry?"

"Well, you already have enough of them in your hair, your coat, your…face."

Santana would've blushed if she knew what the hell Brittany was talking about. "You're…Brittany, right?"

"That's right! Brittany S. Pierce." She stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet ya'!"

Santana absently shook it. "Brittany, what do you mean they're in my hair, my-"

"Raindrops. They're all over you! I've been running away from them off and on today."

Santana was absolutely charmed. The coffee arrived in bad time, but at least the waitress dropped it off and left. So, Santana continued to stare at this cute, seemingly innocent blonde who said the strangest of things. But then, Santana thought of something.

"Hey, Brittany?"

"You can call me Britt."

Santana looked down, charmed again. Then, she looked back up. "Britt? You went to MIT, right?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"And you were a math major, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did you graduate?"

"Graduate?"

"Yeah. You know. Cap and gown, get your diploma, big ceremony-"

"Oh yeah! That. Well, yeah, I did."

"So, you're like…smart?"

"Oh yeah!"

Brittany pulled out the menu and perused it. Santana was both perplexed and stunned at the same time! And attracted. Not just physically and sexually attracted either, although there was that. No, Santana found herself…interested.

"I like your hair." Santana abruptly said.

"Oh, thank you!" Britt replied, without looking up. "Those awful raindrops keep fallin' on my head."

Santana had to drop her head to cover her smile and laughter. "Well, it looks nice." She smiled.

Brittany looked up and smiled too. "Thanks, Santana."

Two booths away, four heads perked up and turned around. They stared at Santana and Brittany and then made excited little gestures.

"So, Brittany?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't lying when I said that you're hired."

The blonde smiled. "Oh, I know! And I'm happy! I'm looking forward to dancing for you!"

A little scream of excitement from a pre-teen sounded off at the corner of the diner.

"Well," Santana eagerly began, resting her forearms on the table, "when we rehearse, you can meet my backup singers. Maybe you could even sing."

"Oh, no. No. No."

Santana frowned. "Why not?"

"I never sing."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't."

Some people gathered near the entrance of the restaurant.

"Lemme guess. You think you're off key? Or tone deaf?"

"No. I just don't sing very well."

"Well, we can work on that."

Brittany looked astonished. "We…we can?"

"Of course we can!"

And then it happened. They smiled at each other at the same time. Golden, honest smiles that just sang of happiness, youth, and perhaps trust. Santana loved how Brittany's cheeks puffed out like a little girl when she smiled. And Brittany just found she loved her kindness.

"I think you should leave."

The happy, safe atmosphere whooshed away with the arrival of the waitress.

"Excuse me?" Santana nastily said.

"People are staring at you two."

"What? Staring?" She turned around and could've screamed out loud. "Mierda!"

"Don't swear, Santana. That's not nice."

The Latina's mouth opened in surprise. "You…you know what that means?"

"Yes and it's a bad word."

"Not many Americans know that word."

"Well, I do. And it's-"

"Hey Britt?" Santana began, leaning in conspiratorially. "Wanna get outta here?"

The blonde glanced up at the slowly gathering crowd and when a photographer showed up, she eagerly said, "Yeah!"

Girlishly, they prepared for their hasty exit. Santana looped her hoodie on her head and Brittany buttoned her coat. After a few dollars were left on the table for the coffee and tip, they scooted out of their booth and headed away from the crowd.

" _SANTANAAAAAAAAAAA_!"

"Mierda!" Brittany yelled.

Santana looked at her in wonder. "I thought you said-"

"Oh, shut up and come on!" She snatched Santana's hand and after the lightning bolt coursed through them after that touch, they took off!

"Santanaaaaaa!"

Clicks from the camera captured the caped duo running behind the counter and into the kitchen.

"Hey!" The waitress yelled.

But it was fruitless. In the distance, a cook was heard yelling at them just as photographers began taking pictures. But that didn't work well either. The girls were out the back door!

Despite the fact that they were running away from rabid fans and persistent Paparazzi, the girls were laughing and smiling and having the time of their lives! However, as they started up Congress Avenue, Brittany came to a stop.

"What…?" Santana began, slightly out of breath. "What are you doing, Britt?!"

"Not that way! Not north!" Brittany said. "The Buffalo Bayou is that way. We'll be trapped!" Immediately, Brittany reversed course – headed right back towards the diner!

"Brittany! Wait! What's a bayou?!" Santana ran after her.

When she caught up to Brittany, she captured Brittany's hand and ran and ran and ran. After they passed the diner, they were running through the street. Looking to their left, they could see that the small crowd and few Paparazzi had also gone through the kitchen looking for them. And just as the girls dashed behind a curbside building, a few of the fans spotted them!

"Shit!"

"Mierda!"

If it were any more possible, the girls picked up their speed once again! Choruses of "Santana! Santanaaaa! San!" could be heard in the distance as they ran north. Pitter-patters of their feet splashing on freshly-rained streets could be heard, even from their followers. Turning this way and that, they careened down alleys and side streets and major streets.

They ignored street lights, they jaywalked, and other pedestrians. They overlooked rain and cold and wind. The girls just ran and ran!

Finally, exhaustion began to overtake them. Plus, the sounds of their followers couldn't be heard as well anymore.

"I think…" Brittany said, "I think we could stop."

"H-he-hell no!"

"Why…why not?"

"Girl," Santana began, tugging on Brittany's arm, " _YEARS_ of being a celebrity have taught me that once you think you're safe, you're not. We gotta keep moving!"

"It's like…" Brittany said, allowing herself to be pulled along, "we're being chased by zombies."

"Something like that."

They partially ran/walked down the side street until they reached another alley.

"Let's hide here." Britt suggested.

Santana looked down. There was an enormous, industrial-sized waste container that stunk and had stains all over its hunter green façade. But reluctantly, Santana agreed and they scrunched down behind it.

They were sure the sounds of the city should've been heard. Even the light sounds of falling rain. But in that tightly contained moment, all they heard was the desperate sounds of getting air in and out of their lungs. Santana peered in between the gap of the bin and the building they were leaning against to see if they were followed. Brittany uselessly did the same on the other side. Satisfied for the moment they were safe, they looked at each other.

Soft, embarrassed smiles adorned their innocent faces as they simply looked at each other.

"Looks like," Santana softly began, "you're losing your battle with raindrops."

"You too."

They quietly laughed together, a resonance that sounded like singing. Brittany shifted her weight a little, her feet flat on the ground, back against the wall. Santana did the same. And then, her gaze shifted to the dumpster right in front of them.

"It stinks."

"Yeah, it sure does. But it doesn't smell as bad as Lord Tubbington after a poo-poo session."

"Uh…" Santana scratched her head and looked at Britt. "What?"

"Lord Tubbington sometimes tells me that I feed him too much." Santana couldn't have looked more baffled. "But then, when he poo-poos, he doesn't mind the food so much then." Santana stifled a laugh. "One time, Lord Tubbington told me to make an important decision."

"And what was that?" Santana asked, amused.

"He said that I either had to become a veterinarian or a dancer."

"I see."

"So, I became a veterinarian."

"Ummm, what?"

"Yeah. I became a veterinarian. I got a diploma and everything."

"You…" Santana scratched her hair again. "You did?"

"Yeah! I'll show it to you sometime. Lord Tubbington helped me get it."

"He did?"

"Oh yeah!" Santana looked in the gap again for any intruders and then back to her. "He helped me find the website where I could print off any diploma I wanted. And then I did." Brittany straightened as best she could in the cramped space. "You're looking at Dr. Brittany S. Pierce, DVM."

"Well," Santana said with an appreciative smile, "it's nice to meet you, Doctor."

"Likewise."

Charmed. Santana was absolutely charmed by her newest backup dancer. She found she couldn't stop being fascinated by her. Brittany too seemed interested in this pop sensation in front of her. She liked how she accepted her.

"Hey!" Santana abruptly said, slowly standing up. Brittany did the same. "I got an idea."

"What?"

Santana looked left and right, to make sure they were alone. And then, she said, "I have movie rights in my hotel suite. I was gonna go back there and watch 'The Aristocats' and I-"

 _"THE ARISTOCATS?!"_

"Shhhh!" Santana admonished, and then chuckled. "Yeah. Wanna come back and watch it with me?"

"I'd love to! Oh, I can't wait to tell Lord Tubbington that this will be by forty-fourth time watching it! Let's go!"

And before Santana could stop her, Brittany took off running. Laughing, the Latina finally caught up with her and soon they were briskly walking back on Congress Ave, south towards the hotel suite. A few, drizzly minutes went by.

"Santannnnaaaa!"

The girls flipped their heads towards the noise only to realize that three or four girls started running towards them.

Santana turned to Brittany, smiled, grabbed her hand, and said, "Here we go again!"

And off they went!

 **.**

 **AN: Next chapter will be present time. I had fun with this chapter. :) I hope you enjoy! Please review. Please be kind. Thank you! Have a Nice Day!ILOVESMESONEGLEEX3**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Please forgive me for not updating this story sooner! You all know how life can be...**

 **So here we have the beginnings of the murder investigation. It isn't pretty, but some of this is funny and effective. This is an important chapter for the investigation too.**

 **ENJOY! And as always, please review. Please be kind.**

 **HAVE A NICE DAY!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEx3**

 **Chapter 7**

"Mrs. Pierce!"

"Mrs. Pierce! Over here!"

"Are the allegations true?!"

"You two were lovers. Is it true that you were secretly getting hitched right before Santana was murdered?"

"Are you getting even more hate mail, Mrs. Pierce?"

Brittany Pierce wasn't the least bit shocked when she saw a small but overbearing group of the media outside the police station. That early Tuesday morning she was to meet her lawyer to discuss her girlfriend's murder case. She was ordered to stay in the limo until her lawyer arrived. He was over twenty minutes late. Brittany was tired and exhausted. That exhaustion was more apparent when she grew frustrated that she had to wait like a little child. She wasn't. She didn't understand why it was so important for her to wait in her limo…well, Santana's limo but that was beside the point. The point was that _NONE_ of this should be happening!

"Were you in on killing Ms. Lopez?"

"Mrs. Pierce, were you really in love with Santana?"

"Who does your hair? Did Santana?"

"You're not that cute."

"Were you in this "relationship" for the money?"

Still sitting in her limousine Brittany almost broke down when someone shouted that last part at her. She felt disgusted. How can anyone be so vile as to ask _THAT_ question? But if being with her one true love has taught her anything, it's this – you can't let anyone see you break. Then they win. And nobody wants that, so Brittany sucked it up ad took a deep breath and continued to try to tune out the chaos in front of her. But it was proving to difficult to try to turn off the world around her.

"You two were lovers. Is it true that you were secretly getting hitched right before Santana was murdered?" Brittany heard enough. She couldn't wait for her lawyer anymore. He was taking forever to arrive, so she took action. She braved the shit storm to come as she braced opening up her limo door.

Light bulbs. Flashes of light bulbs went off and she was hounded by paparazzi as soon as Brittany Pierce stepped out of the limousine into the Houston, Texas police station.

Despite being hounded, Brittany remained silent, stoic and stony faced as she struggled to get in the front entrance thanks to annoying paparazzi that wouldn't even let her breathe. Finally after a few moments of struggle, two police officers showed up and stepped in to control the small yet abrasive group of paparazzi. She was escorted to a small waiting area and shown to a seat. Then, one of the officers turned to her.

"Can I get you anything, Mrs.-?"

"It's Miss. It's Ms. Pierce to you."

He straightened up, glanced at his partner, and they both left. Miss Brittany Pierce was now alone. The fluorescent lights overhead hurt her eyes and she could hear general office jargon nearby. Left to her own devices, she looked around the room. Her environment spoke of depression – old magazines, dilapidated furniture, a broken vending machine, and plastic plants.

She stood and walked towards the 'out of order' machine and stared at the button for Coca-Cola. Brittany didn't really want a beverage. But she watched it with a burning desire erupting inside her.

Red. She stared at the red logo of Coca-Cola and thought of the gorgeous red dress Santana wore when Brittany last saw her.

Brittany nearly collapsed. She desperately gasped for air and couldn't seem to get enough. Almost terrified tears plunged down her face and she couldn't take it anymore!

Her fist slammed into the machine. It hurt, but it also felt good.

"I've wanted to do that all morning."

Brittany whirled around and saw a tall man with the typical cop arrogance notorious amongst government employees.

"Come with me, Mrs. Pierce."

But she didn't move. "Who are you?"

"Just…come with me." He waved to her and saw the trepidation on her face. He wiggled his badge, which displayed his name. "My name is Detective Hanthorn. I have a few questions for you."

Hesitantly, she followed him into another room that looked like anything she'd seen on TV. A simple table with three folding chairs were placed in the center of the room. Harsh lights shined overhead and a little camera was to the left. Hanthorn pointed to a chair and she slumped in it, while he sat in the other.

He opened up a file. "Now, Mrs. Pierce, I'm trying-"

"Miss."

He blinked. "What?"

"It's _MISS_ Pierce. Miss Brittany Pierce. Miss Brittany S. Pierce. Like Miss Brittany Spears or Miss Sasha Fierce…Pierce."

He blinked again and then looked down in his file. "But…aren't you married?"

She rolled her eyes. "Gee Whiz, make-" And then, she covered her mouth with both hands and looked girlishly apologetic. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sworn."

Detective Hanthorn struggled to keep a straight face. "That's alright. But you were saying…?"

"Oh yeah! I was saying that you make one," she held up her index finger, "little mistake in Las Vegas and _POOF!_ You're married. And I always thought that what happened in Vegas _STAYED_ in Vegas."

"Soooo…" Hanthorn began, just starting to get confused. "You're divorced?"

"Yup!" She answered and then snapped her fingers. "Just like that. You can get divorced quicker than you can get married. Did you know that you can get married before you get divorced? I always thought you had to know the person before you get a divorce. And if you can, why doesn't the judge ever rule that you can marry your favorite pet? I think Lord Tubbington wants to propose to me but hasn't seemed to gotten around to it. I don't know why he hasn't. I mean, he loves-"

"Miss Pierce!"

She looked up at him. "Yeah?"

He angled his mouth a little to the left. "Have you ever had a psychiatric evaluation?"

She thought for a second. "Is that the one where they give you a toothbrush afterwards?"

"N-no, it isn't."

"Or is that the one that they ask you about yourself and try to figure out if you're crazy?"

"That's the one!"

"Oh yes."

"And…?"

She scoffed. "I've had so many of those that I'd need the Pythagorean Theorem and a cosine to count them."

He stared at her, eyes squinted. Then, he looked down in his file. Having come to some sort of conclusion, he closed the file and folded his hands over it. He studied her momentarily. She looked lost and confused but not nearly as much as he was then. So, he leaned back and placed his folded hands over his slightly protruding belly.

"I need," the detective began, "to ask you about your relationship with Santana Lopez."

"But…that's private."

His voice grew cold. "Not anymore."

"San always said we should keep our private lives to ourselves."

"What else did she say?"

"Well… That's a hard question to answer."

"Why?" Hanthorn asked, leaning forward.

"She said a lot of things. I mean, I've known her for a while and-"

"For how long?"

She looked at him directly in the eye. "My mom always said it's rude to interrupt."

"Miss Pierce," he began with a hint of impatience, "you do realize that we're trying to get to the bottom of all of this. Your cooperation is paramount to finding out what happened and who killed Santana Lopez."

Something shifted in Brittany – a kind of recognition of authority or trouble or something. A small sigh escaped and she folded her hands over her stomach. The detective sensed this change and proceeded with the interview, which was quickly turning into an interrogation.

"Miss Pierce, how long have you known Santana Lopez?"

"A year."

"Alright." Hanthorn wrote this information down. "And how did you meet?"

"In a diner."

"In a diner?"

"Yeah. She was trying to escape raindrops."

"R-raindrops?" He leaned back, studying her with a cop's eye.

"Well, not really." She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with these questions. "I was escaping them. She was escaping…"

"Yes?" He leaned forward again.

"I don't really know. But when you're Santana Lopez, you get followed everywhere. She had this cute disguise and I saw right through it. I didn't tell anyone she was there though. But everyone figured it out." She paused and then smiled. "We watched 'The Aristocats'."

"What's that?"

Brittany looked appalled. "It's only the _BEST_ movie about cats in the whole world! Duuuuuuh!"

"I see." Detective Brian Hanthorn officiously said. "So, you began working for her as a backup dancer?"

"Yeah."

"And you got along with her?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Yes."

His voice intensified. "And you hung out together?"

"Yes."

"Did she pay you well?"

"Yes!"

"How did you seduce her?"

"What?!"

"How did you get her into bed?"

She slammed her hands on the table. "It wasn't like that!"

"You previously claimed you two were in love."

"We _ARE_ in love! Even in…d-death you can still be in love!"

His voice got even louder. "Then where were you at 8:20PM that night?"

"I don't know!" Britt exclaimed, almost in tears. "I was going to the stage to get in my place."

"Did you put Santana in her place?"

" _NO!_ I don't even know what you're-"

"Why did you kill her?"

Brittany exploded. "I didn't! I love her! I couldn't do anything like that to her! Why are you doing this to me?!"

Hanthorn watched her as hands covered her tear-stricken face. Brittany once again struggled to get air into her lungs. She heard a soft 'plop!' sound and looked up. A box of Kleenex had been tossed near her by the detective along with a bottle of water. She took a few and loudly blew her nose.

"I love my San…" she whispered.

He reclasped his hands on top of the file and boldly looked at her. "What about Kurt Hummel?"

She wiped her right eye. "What about him?"

"Well, how's your relationship with him?"

"Kurtie? He's great. We're all friends." Then, she looked him directly in the eye. "We _ALL_ love her! She's the best thing to happen in our lives and I don't have to take this!"

She stood up to leave.

"Miss Pierce, you are a person of interest. We can actually hold you here."

Shocked, she fearfully looked at him and slowly sat back down. "I don't think that's true."

"It is." The cold detective said. "Now, Miss Pierce, did you have any contact with her between the time of 7:30PM and 8:20PM?"

"No…but I should've."

"What do you mean?"

She crossed her legs and looked away. "Something told me I should've…texted her or something."

"Why?"

"Because…" her mouth formed a childish pout, "she had an argument the day before."

He raised an eyebrow. "An argument?"

"Yeah." She sniffed some snot back in her nose. "Just stupid…manager-type stuff. She said it was something to do with scheduling or money or something. That kind of stuff always confuses me."

"That's not a surprise." Hanthorn said under his breath. Then, he looked at her. "Do you know any names we could ask about this…argument?"

"No, I don't."

He leaned back in his chair suddenly, stroking his chin with his index and thumb fingers. He critically looked at her and she could barely stand the scrutiny. She looked at the camera's red light, indicating it was recording and just stared at it. The bottled water wasn't even open and she began twirling it on the table. And still, she could feel his penetrating stare. He didn't move. He barely blinked. But Brittany had had enough.

"I don't have anything more I could say."

"I'll be the judge of that, Miss Pierce."

Suddenly, the door opened and a burly cop walked through. "She's lawyered up."

"Ah, shit." Hanthorn said. And just then, an attorney walked in.

"Brittany?" the lawyer began, "Don't answer anymore questions. I'll take over from here." And then, he looked at the detective. "Are you going to arrest her?"

The detective sighed. "No."

"Go, Brittany."

She stood up and turned towards the door. But quite suddenly, she came to a stop. Slowly, she swiveled back towards the detective and looked at him with incredibly hurt eyes.

"You're a poopyhead! And I'm _NOT_ sorry for swearing!"

She fled the room. Brittany didn't even try to stop the tears from flowing. She knew, as she ran down the hall of the police station, that she'd be confronted with those damn paparazzi again and she tried not to care. But that just made her misery worse and she dipped her head as she rounded a corner.

That's when she bumped into someone or something hard. Strong hands clasped her upper arms and she started to mumble an apology. But when she looked up, an enormous wave of relief washed over her as she looked up into the eyes of Santana's chief of security.

"Dave!"

"Brit-!"

Dave Karofsky couldn't finish his sentence. She launched into his arms and he held her tight. He didn't want to cry (again), so he held them back as best as he could. Her fingernails were digging into his gray Armani suit jacket and he didn't care. They were just two young friends who lost a great love in their life and they held each other like a life preserver.

Slowly, Dave pulled her away and she wouldn't look at him. Finally, he had to place a finger under her chin and pull her head up. The look of anguish on her face would've brought tears to anyone. But the chief of security held firm and gradually softened his grip on her arm.

"Britt?" Dave softly asked. "Did they call you too?"

"Y-yeah." She answered between huffs. "They…he…he's awful. And a big jerk, Dave!"

"I figured he would be."

Suddenly, her head snapped up. "Do you have a lawyer?"

He looked confused. "No. But I'm not-"

"Get one. That detective is…"

He nodded. "I understand."

"He just kept asking me about all these horrible things about my San!" She finally pulled herself together. "Now I have to go face these paparazzi again and I don't want to." Then, she looked him in the eye. "But I will."

"We have to be strong. And you _ARE_."

"Thanks Dave. Thank you." She started to leave him. "And I just don't understand who would do this to her." She took a few more steps away. "I mean, you, Kurtie, and that dumb technician were with her that night."

She walked on down the hall. Dave watched her go and waited until she was out of sight. Then, he turned and walked down the hall, completely surprised the Houston police department even let them talk at all. An officer showed him into the same room Brittany was in. Detective Hanthorn sat there, file intact on the table and he stared up him. Eyes of both men narrowed.

"Are-?"

"Let me save you the trouble!" Dave launched himself towards the table and an officer started to restrain him. The detective waved him away and Dave went off!

"No, I didn't kill my friend Santana Lopez! You think I would be still be in this country if I did?! Did you do a thorough crime scene investigation, detective? Because I wanna see the report. That's right! I wanna see _ALL_ of it! I've been a close, personal friend to Santana since high school and her chief of security for over a year and I'll be damned-!"

"Then," Hanthorn calmly interrupted, "why did you _AND_ your team let someone slit her throat?"

Dave nearly exploded! _"LET?!_ We didn't let _ANYONE_ in without our knowing it! We check everybody's ID badge and do thorough background checks _BEFORE_ we even let anyone _NEAR_ her!" He lowered his voice a bit. "I'm…I'm at a loss as to how this happened but we did our part and she…she…" He dropped his head, took a breath, and slowly raised it to the detective's eye level. "She shouldn't have died."

"That's right, Mr. Karofsky. She shouldn't have." He picked up the file and opened it. "You can sit down now, Mr. Karofsky."

Dave's eyes narrowed once again and reluctantly slammed down in the seat. The detective perused the file as if he had all the time in the world. Meanwhile, Dave sat there, his right leg bouncing up and down, and he nearly started biting a fingernail. And all Hanthorn did was read that file.

The other officer in the room took a few steps back and verified the video camera was running. Dave watched everything unfold, knowing exactly what was happening and the games this jerk detective were playing. So, in the end, he relented, waiting this guy out. Suddenly, the detective dropped the file on the table.

"Mr. Karofsky, we'll need all security footage of people going in and out-"

"I've already given that to the police."

"Well, I don't have it."

"Well then, search through your red tape files here in the glorious Houston police department." His voice grew threatening. "I'm sure it's here somewhere…"

The detective chuckled. "Oh, we'll find it, Mr. Karofsky. _THAT_ I can promise you."

"Fine. Then, what do you want to know?"

Hanthorn leaned back, placing both hands on his protruding stomach. "Well, let's start with whatever you know."

Dave looked befuddled. "You mean, like, when we met and how I started working for her?"

"Sure."

Dave evilly grinned. "Ohhhh, Detective Hanthorn. Sit back. Do I have a story to tell you."

.

 **AN: Thank you all for reading. More to come. Next chapter we jump right back to the past. I swear all this jumping back in forth from past to prsent is necessary. All will be explained soon. What did you all think so far? If you have questions or any feedback, let me know. Have a great day!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3**


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